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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26434048">Only Natural</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioplast_hero/pseuds/bioplast_hero'>bioplast_hero</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU - Altean University Faculty, Body Worship, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Erogenous Zones, Fisting, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gay Disaster Shiro (Voltron), Hand and Foot Kink, Heartbeat Kink, M/M, Purring Keith (Voltron), Toe beans are sensitive, Xenophilia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:15:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26434048</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioplast_hero/pseuds/bioplast_hero</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Shiro agreed to cover a colleague's lecture, he hadn't realized it pertained to Galran mating and reproductive biology. And that was either a blessing or a curse, because, as it would so happen, Shiro had a particular interest in the subject.</p><p>That interest was Keith.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>97</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>403</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Only Natural</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/gifts">GoldenTruth813</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my <a href="https://twitter.com/bioplast_hero/status/1295440859664535552">follower thank you</a> fic! The first of possibly many... the prompts were just too good.</p><p>Janel asked for a Galra Keith AU where Shiro is very interested in alien anatomy and Keith wants to help. Love me some xenobiology and bottom Shiro, so... tada!</p><p>Beta: <a href="https://twitter.com/quantumabyssmal">Quantum Abyssmal</a> ♡ keeping me in line.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“You want me to what?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Why, give the Apogial lecture in macro-xenobiology, Shiro,” Coran repeated, fussing with the buttons on his tweed jacket that hadn’t been in fashion on Altea for half a millennium. Not that anyone would give the faculty chair their honest opinion on that, or on how it clashed so harshly with the man’s vibrant orange mustache. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Mz. Joyan’s got the Luulptian flu,” Coran continued, “and I’ve got no one else to cover. But don’t worry, my dear boy,” Coran slapped Shiro firmly on the back. “It’s only a survey course. Piece of cake for a seasoned academic like yourself.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro tried not to preen at the praise, seeing it for the bald-faced manipulation it really was, but he had always been weak for a compliment on his work. He worked hard to make a name for himself as an adjunct at Altean University; with any luck, by next deca-phoeb he’d be tenure track.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“But I teach stellar cartography.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Biology, astronomy,” Coran waved his hands dismissively and Shiro’s eye almost twitched. Almost. “Back in the olden days, we just called it ‘the study of the universe.’ All you young upstarts with your <em>disciplines</em> and your <em>turf.</em> Really, my boy, is that the foot you want to put forward as you start your career?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro snapped to attention. “No sir. It’s absolutely no problem. I can be ready by then.” Shiro checked the quintant ticker at the front of the classroom. The Altean calendar was a bit of a nightmare; the ‘weeks’ were too long, but at least the weekends made up for it. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro had two quintants to prepare. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“That’s my boy, Shiro! Now that that’s settled, here’s the syllabus,” Coran handed Shiro a small crystal drive from his pocket, a quirky technology Shiro had come to expect, “and a little <em>light reading.</em>” At that, Coran slapped a heavy volume down on the desk. Shiro hadn’t seen a print book since probably his last visit to a Terran museum, and even then it wasn’t bound in some kind of hide like <em>ye olde spelle booke.</em> Where the hell was Coran even carrying this monstrosity?</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry, Sir, I forgot to, um, ask. What is the topic for the lecture?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Coran halted at the door frame and offered a nonplussed expression that definitely said <em>read the damn syllabus. </em></span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Galran mating and reproduction.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Coran vanished as quickly as he arrived. Shiro felt his shoulders creep up to meet his ear lobes, regret hitting hard.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"><em>This,</em> Shiro thought with a certain finality, <em>is going to be a disaster.</em></span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">^^^</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">No, Shiro was the disaster. The Apogial would simply be the purest expression of the Platonic form of Shiro’s pitifully poor luck. Because as it would so happen, Shiro had a particular interest in the subject of Galran mating habits.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Less in the academic sense, mind you.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">In the fraternal sense, one might say.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro waited outside the studio art classroom door until all the students had cleared out, peeking furtively through the decorative glass. That pane was the only thing separating Shiro from a certain visiting art professor, who was only the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">And by man, he meant Galra. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">And by Galra, he meant Keith.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The man of his dreams was at the critique wall, repinning artworks so they could all be seen easily, none hiding beneath another student’s sheet. This was where the students’ work would be weighed and measured once the class came together again. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro was measuring something else entirely. Back turned, Shiro couldn’t keep his eyes from the way Keith’s weight dropped into one hip, accentuating the curve of his low back in close-fitting clothes. Everything about Keith was fit, cut, and lithe. He was a work of art.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s dark purple hair tumbled between his velvet-soft ears, with a flash of magenta curling at his nape over the lavender of his softly-furred skin. Shiro wondered how soft his skin would feel under his hands, his lips. Shiro loved his ears, too, how expressive they were. He loved how the soft, tufted peaks would flick, cat-like, wherever Keith’s attention went.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Ears which had just flicked back in Shiro’s direction, if only for a moment. Even when he didn’t turn, Keith already knew who was there.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro and Keith had been orbiting each other since the start of the term. Just… circling, spiraling ever closer. First with smiles, maybe a shy wave. Then friendly remarks of camaraderie, voiced too low for the cafeteria ladies to take offense at their opinion on the <em>classic</em> Altean fare. Soon there were the occasional venting sessions over the latest absurd new policy or a difficult student, shared over tea in the faculty lounge, or in Keith’s classroom, perched on those little student benches with easels that were easily a century old. There they would air their grievances, along with the occasional personal anecdote: Shiro’s reasons for leaving the Terran military, the accident that took his arm and rocked his faith in that foundation; and of Keith’s childhood on Daibazaal, loud and full-to-bursting with intimidating Marmoran relatives, but happy.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">It was the kind of dance where they both knew just enough of the steps to get by, letting the pattern carry them. Shiro wasn’t eager to question what it meant, but he’d be a liar to say thoughts of Keith didn’t keep him up most nights. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"><em>Keith. </em>The strangely human name was no accident. His father was human, and certainly the only human on the Galran homeworld, making Keith something so remarkable and rare that there should be volumes written just about him. Hell, that ominous volume currently sitting on Shiro’s desk might have a whole chapter in it about Keith Kogane.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro would know, perhaps, if he’d gotten much further than reading the syllabus and Professor Joyan’s dashed-off notes before having a sort of meltdown. Or a bout of lunacy, whatever you want to call it. The sort of ailment where the chief symptom was running to see his crush to beg for help, or forgiveness, or to be swiftly put out of his misery. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">And Keith could do that, too. Keith could be deadly, Shiro was sure of it. You should see his <em>hands.</em></span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">So there Shiro was, wringing his own hands, when Keith appeared in the door frame, his smile wry and almost too knowing under the circumstances.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I did not expect you today,” Keith said to him, his accented Common doing unpleasantly-pleasant things to Shiro’s insides. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I need your help,” Shiro answered. There was no sense in hiding why he was here; the sooner he ripped that bandage off, the less likely he’d lose his nerve first. And why not pile one mistake on another?</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith arched an eyebrow but said nothing further, only stepping back into the classroom and making room for Shiro to follow him inside.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro shut the door behind him and found himself absorbed again in simply watching Keith move. Of course he’d always watched, as often as he felt he could without making his hopefully-new-friend uncomfortable with unwanted attention. Shiro was a gentleman, he liked to believe. Besides, he genuinely wanted to be friendly, to really know Keith. Still, he felt his eyes slip down to Keith’s tiny waist and the sway of his hips more often than he could really excuse. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">But this looking was different, more motivated. He was <em>checking, </em>he realized, for a tail. Some Galra had them, apparently, but maybe Keith didn’t. And of course he was only half Galra. Shiro had never spotted a hint of anything tail-shaped before— not that he was <em>looking</em>-looking, then.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro felt his thoughts spinning out and let loose a sigh. It didn’t matter, of course, it was just… a tail would be unbearably cute, and Keith was already nearly unbearable. If his reading had already done him the disservice of planting <em>that</em> speculation in his hindbrain, what more was he in for in the upcoming pages? That was only the beginning of what he’d seen in those notes.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith was quiet. He was often quiet— observing, listening. All of that had new meaning for Shiro, now, too.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Would you like to tell me?” Keith rasped, leaning against his desk at the front of the class. Shiro’s stomach flipped, taking stock of how very little he’d thought this through. But Keith just smiled, kittenish and sharp. “It must be rather interesting. I’ve not seen you so… agitated.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Fuck.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” Shiro swallowed, straddling a low seat near the front of the room. “Coran, you know how he is. He assigned me Joyan’s class, the Apogial lecture. I’m just way out of my depth.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith hummed. “The xenobiology survey?” Shiro nodded mutely. “That is a bit far from stellar cartography,” Keith mused. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“That’s the problem!” Shiro whined. He worked with interstellar phenomenon, not interpersonal. Planetary bodies, not... well, you get the idea.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“This is not my specialty either, Shiro,” Keith laughed lightly as he said his name. It was unmistakably fond, melting Shiro on the spot. Why did he have to say his name like <em>that</em> at a time like this?</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro dragged his metal fingers through his hair, mussing his bangs in the process. “I’ve got the material to review, so that’s something, at least. I guess I just have some… questions.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith looked at him, uncomprehending and unflappably patient.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“It might be a bit personal, so please know you can tell me no, and I won’t be offended. Hell, I don’t want <em>you</em> to be offended, I’m just not sure I can ask anyone else—”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Shiro,” Keith answered, voice laced with concern as he closed the distance. “Your heart rate is abnormally fast; are you not well?” Keith reached for Shiro then, resting the bow of his palm just over Shiro’s temple, as though checking his temperature or his pulse or <em>whatever</em> would answer the flood of questions the outburst probably provoked.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“No, I’m- sorry, I’m fine.” Shiro forced a smile, trying so hard not to sway into the pressure of Keith’s palm. He couldn’t think of a time his new friend had ever reached out and <em>touched</em> him.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro hated to see Keith’s ears drooping like this, uncertain what to make of the state his friend was in.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Spit it out, Shirogane.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“It’s— Galran mating and reproduction,” Shiro squeaked, his voice too shrill. “That’s my lecture.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s eyes widened but he didn’t move, and, thankfully, didn’t pull away. Rather, he seemed to freeze on the spot, staring down at Shiro’s upturned face while Shiro’s cheeks burned and pulse sped like a capreolini in heat.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro tried for a laugh, though it came out nervous and strangled. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I mean, who knew there was a whole lecture in the first-year survey on Galra dating. I mean <em>mating!”</em> he corrected himself with a mental slap, but too late. What an unmitigated disaster. Shiro swallowed, his throat too dry. “It turns out it’s a… nuanced subject, with a lot of… unique elements. It’s an ideal case study in humanoid biodiversity. Er, um, that’s what Joyan’s notes said about it.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s pretty mouth opened and closed a few times without a sound. There was a lovely deepening of color high on the Galra’s cheeks, some kind of a blush that Shiro had never seen on the other’s face. How dare he be so beautiful while Shiro was in the process of ruining everything.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith huffed, a little sigh or a laugh or a… something. He lowered his hand but didn’t retreat.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“You have some questions, then,” Keith answered. Calm, rational, <em>professional</em>— all the things Shiro had utterly forgotten how to be.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith reached for the easel bench to Shiro’s left, pulling the seat closer before perching there, crossing his legs. Keith’s trousers were thin and supple enough to hug his form, caressing all the wiry musculature of Keith’s thighs and calves before dropping from view into his high boots.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Uh yes,” Shiro coughed. “Questions. You, um, you mentioned my heart rate. You can really hear that, huh?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">It turns out Shiro had made a few… assumptions in the past about Keith’s cat-like biology. Like, <em>scenting.</em> Shiro really assumed that the importance of scent to purple cat-lizard society would be item one in the text— which just showed how little he knew, or how much werewolf porn he’d been known to indulge in. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">But opening the reading, the Galra didn’t appear to have an extraordinary sense of smell. Their <em>hearing, </em>however, was another matter.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I can hear changes in your heart rate, yes,” Keith confirmed.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Like, from across the room, even?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s brow quirked in question. “Likely, if the room is not loud.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Shiro’s chest felt too small. Trying to smell nice for your crush was one thing, but what in seven hells was his heartbeat revealing about him?</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Does that bother you?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“No, no, of course not,” Shiro lied. “It’s just, well. The text wasn’t very specific about it. What exactly does heart rate indicate about… interest in mating?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith blinked. “Arousal.” Like it was obvious.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro was certain then that he’d been having heart-boners in front of Keith for phoebs. He was mortified. But Keith was sort of frowning and that didn’t make anything about this better.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Please do not be worried, Shiro,” Keith muttered, his voice a pleasing rasp. “While I can hear the heart rhythm of most any species, it is not the most useful skill in most company.” Keith scraped his fingers through the magenta hair at the nape of his neck.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“How so?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Because, er, what am I to make of the pace of a human heart?” Keith blinked at him innocently, but the blush was suspicious. Why would the thought make Keith blush? He waved a hand to dismiss the notion as unimportant. “See, not to worry. It is most pertinent with other Galra.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"><em>Other Galra.</em> Shiro knew Keith meant to reassure, but those words sank in his stomach like an anvil. Shiro hated the idea of Keith listening for the skips in <em>other Galra’s</em> hearts. It was absurd and unfair; he didn’t want Keith to see right through him, sure, but he just-as-surely didn’t want to miss his chance with Keith!</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">And worse, Shiro realized, how would Keith know of his interest, if he couldn’t make heads or tails of the signs in the usual way? What an awful thought, that Keith might not feel desirable or <em>wanted—</em> because oh god, he was wanted. Shiro had never wanted anything, anyone, more. Though he was already proving to be a rather poor match for Keith’s needs, wasn’t he? </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Besides that,” Keith soldiered on, “we listen for other things than the rhythm of the heart.” Keith smiled at him, offered like an olive branch. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro reached for it like a lifeline. “Oh?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith flashed his teeth, smiling so wide. “You know that I can hear when you are hungry.” Keith’s laugh pulled Shiro along with it, forestalling the panic for a moment. He accepted the tease for those times Keith had known Shiro had skipped breakfast, sometimes bringing him his favorite fruit tartlet from the cafeteria between his classes. It was so thoughtful, so like Keith. Other faculty thought the new art professor was standoffish, chilly. Shiro never understood that at all.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“You see? It can be like that,” Keith mused. “There are other sounds that matter. Like, when we rattle.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"><em>Rattle,</em> Shiro thought. <em>He means purr.</em> Shiro had read about purring, though he’d never heard the sound himself. He wanted to. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“What does... the rattle sound like?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith flushed a little, a dusting of deeper purple high on his cheekbones. “Well, I, well. It is involuntary, when we do it. One’s rattle doesn’t lie. The vibration shows comfort with someone dear, and affection towards them. It is… soothing to us, to hear it.” Keith looked up at Shiro, almost hesitantly.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro wanted Keith to feel that happy, that relaxed, that safe with him. It sounded like a dream. But then, Shiro couldn’t <em>rattle</em> back. He couldn’t give him that, and how would that make Keith feel? He deserved that.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“It sounds remarkable, Keith.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s eyes fluttered, some flash of emotion there. “You truly think so?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro smiled at him. His heart was in it, however his eyes might appear sad, because whatever was or wasn’t meant to be between them, Keith <em>was</em> remarkable. Beautiful. Captivating. He should know how special he truly was. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I know so.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith laughed then, a sweet, light sound. “You are kind, Shiro. And funny,” he grinned.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Funny?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Your questions were not hard ones. You did not even ask about all the nipples.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?” Apparently Shiro hadn’t gotten to that section of the text.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I was under the impression this was a source of puzzlement for your people. Is it true that Terrans have only two nipples?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Yes?” Shiro croaked. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith hummed, taking that in. “And what is this ‘prostate’ for?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro’s brain exploded in a cacophony of white noise. He wasn’t sure how he answered, or if he did, only sure that Keith was talking quite factually about his anatomy, and now also <em>Shiro’s</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro shot up from his bench. He muttered something about not feeling well all of a sudden— or he was pretty sure that he must have, if only for the look of concern in Keith’s eyes as he made for the door.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Did I say something wrong?” Keith asked, so earnest.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“No, no, just… this stomach bug, it’s going around. Best be sure you don’t catch it, too,” Shiro called back over his shoulder as he beat a hasty retreat.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Feel better,” Keith called after him.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">^^^</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro’s eyes hurt. His back ached. He hadn’t binged a textbook this hard since probably his master’s degree, but this time he didn’t think he’d be forgetting it all after the final.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">These contents were probably burned into his memory for life.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">And alongside all those feelings, Shiro felt guilt creeping like ice in his veins. He’d gone to Keith for help— or the pretense of it, maybe— asking possibly very personal questions that his friend took in stride. And he managed to look sullen and miserable at his answers, bolting at the first sign of an answering shot.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Sure, humans don’t just talk about their nipples, or their prostates, or their <em>feelings.</em> Or Shiro had never learned to, in any case. But that wasn’t how Keith saw things. Shiro wanted to see things a bit more from his view.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro asked Keith to trust him. He wanted to be worthy of that kind of trust in return.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">He resolved to make it up to Keith right away, the next evening. The Apogial lecture was the quintant after that, but really, what would more studying accomplish? Shiro could fake it in front of an undergraduate classroom like the best of them. Even a class of very clever Alteans would be no match for the airtight bullshitting Takashi Shirogane could produce when he needed to. He would take tomorrow to focus on making things right with Keith.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Which meant that tonight he studied hard.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">There were definitely paragraphs in the reading that he couldn’t unsee. For example, the extra nipples: three extra pairs on the abdominals, somewhat like a cat. The lizard-type Galra didn’t have these, but Keith never struck him as very lizardy. Paired with extra stomachs and the like, the Galra had a great number of redundant organs. Shiro would never admit to flipping ahead in the text to check for <em>two dicks,</em> but that didn’t appear to be in the cards.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Good lord, Takashi. Buy the man dinner, first.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">But that was nothing beside the next bit of information. Galra had toe beans.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">They had them in the pads of their feet, first and foremost, and the chapter told Shiro that these were quite useful for a bipedal humanoid to have. The digital pads were perfectly cushioned, helping Galra jump from impressive heights without injury. The pads also helped them to feel the terrain as they moved, making them highly skilled in most physical contests.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">But the Galra also had toe beans in their fingers. Small, vestigial pads under the skin. The helpful callout box (yes, illuminated texts can have callout boxes) indicated that the beans gave their hands extraordinary sensitivity to pressure, vibration, temperature, even electricity and conductivity of the skin. They were just… sensitive. Really sensitive. Galra liked to be connected to their mates and loved ones through their hands. It was significant.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"><em>To be so lucky,</em> Shiro thought, yearning to know what that was like.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro thought of the fingerless gloves Keith usually wore when he saw him in the studio. It made sense, imagining that heightened sensitivity and how much it meant to touch another. Only, he didn’t wear them so much with Shiro around…</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith had… touched his face. Shiro’s face. With his bare hand.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">It struck Shiro, then, what Keith might have been doing. He wasn't taking his temperature, or not only that. He wasn't feeling his pulse, which he could already plainly hear. He was just… feeling Shiro, with all that exquisite sensitivity, offering comfort and connection.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Shirogane, you idiot.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Because while Shiro was being sour over missed opportunities he’d conjured in his mind, he was missing one that very minute.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"><em>Tomorrow,</em> he told himself as he settled into bed. He’d make it up to Keith, tomorrow.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">^^^</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Keith, do you have a moment?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith looked up from his desk where he’d been stacking his notes. Of course Keith already knew he was there, but it was still something to see the smile break over his face at Shiro’s approach. He wasn’t sure he deserved it, but he was grateful.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Shiro,” Keith rasped his name around a smile, and wow did Shiro love that sound. “Only a moment,” he answered. “This period is my senior elective.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Of course,” Shiro said as he approached the desk and held out the thermos cup he was carrying. Keith’s eyes widened in delight.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Is this—”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Hot chocolate,” Shiro smiled. “I- I know you like it.” Keith clutched the cup to his chest, taking a sniff at the open lid. The way Keith’s ears swept out wide was almost as delicious as his hum of pleasure when taking a sip.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“You are thoughtful,” Keith rumbled, flushing a little at the temples. Shiro was sure his heart was hammering again, whatever Keith would make of that today. His heart always thundered around Keith. “But why?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I’m afraid I owe you an apology, for how I behaved yesterday.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s face fell. “No, no—”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“—Will you let me make it up to you?” Shiro asked, hopeful.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“There is no need,” Keith waved his hand. “I… always enjoy our conversations.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro preened, his chest too tight. “Okay, um. How about another conversation, then,” he answered, “at the old observatory tonight? I have access to Heldon Hall for astrometrics. I’d love to show it to you.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s eyes brightened, ears bobbing as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “Oh! Yes, please. I am yours tonight.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Oh.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The words coiled hot beneath his navel. Shiro barely managed to chase down the rest of his thought.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Meet me there, a varga after sunset?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s smile was lopsided and raw. “I will be there.”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">^^^</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Not a lot of people come up here anymore,” Shiro explained. “The tech is obsolete, almost vintage.” He glanced back at Keith as they climbed the last of the stairs to the top level where the doors opened out onto the rooftop. “But I like it. It’s interesting to see how far we’ve come.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith met his eyes and held them, so Shiro had to look away first to watch his feet. “Plus, it still works,” Shiro added.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith walked to the railing, taking in the view. The sky was darkening fast, all the midnight shades blurring into the last shock of color on the horizon.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“It’s beautiful up here,” Keith sighed. He leaned his forearms on the railing— not his hands, Shiro noticed, which were noticeably bare tonight. “The sunset always comforts me.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Does it?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Yes,” Keith replied. “It’s the only time the skies on Altea are purple. Like home.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro watched him and his wistful expression, and wondered whether Keith would prefer to be on Daibazaal now. “I’m sure you miss it.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I do,” Keith nods, “but there is so much to like about being here.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">That soft look, again. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Such as?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith grinned wide, then schooled his expression into something more thoughtful. “Like telescopes that our great-great ancestors might have used.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro shook his head fondly. “<em>Your</em> great-great grandparents, maybe. Mine didn’t have anything like this,” Shiro said, tapping the shell of the main baffle with a metal finger just to hear it ping.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith studied him. “How did you come to be so versed in the stars?” he wondered. “Terrans aren’t known for their prowess in space exploration. Except for you, that is.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.” Keith looked very skeptical and Shiro relented with a smile. “I always loved the stars. Here,” he motions Keith over. “I’ll find your nebula.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“<em>My</em> nebula?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” Shiro blushed. “The Feyiv nebula. It’s important to the Galra, isn’t it?” he covered. It was also the precise color of Keith’s eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith smirked and it looked indulgent. “Oh yes. Very important.”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">^^^</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro showed Keith everything he could think of and talked endlessly about his favorite phenomena far from Altea’s skies.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro loved summer nights like this, the air warm and the sky so blessedly dark. Altea banned light pollution centuries ago. There also wasn’t any moon— surely a blessing for their early astronomers, but a loss at the same time, Shiro thought.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Daibazaal doesn’t have a moon either, does it?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith shook his head, ears flicking in the dark in the spill of his hair. Keith kept his sights on the eyepiece while he turned a dial, bringing his target into focus in the way Shiro taught him. “I’ve not lived on a world with a moon. Is it very different?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro pursed his lips in thought. “Not so different. But I like it. I like the phases, marking the passage of time. And it pulls the ocean, making tides.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Your world has so much <em>water,”</em> Keith said with mild disgust. <em>Space cats,</em> Shiro reminded himself as he laughed. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I bet you’d like it more than you think. The ocean is great.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith tittered, delighted. “I would like to see it some time,” he said, pulling back from the finder to look up at Shiro in the dark. Keith’s eyes glittered faintly in the low light. He moved his hand from the focusing knob and <em>yelped.</em></span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Keith?” Shiro startled, following his eyes to Keith’s hand where he was clutching his palm tightly near his little finger. “What happened— oh shit, that is sharp.” Shiro found the offending rough edge, a gouge in the metal beneath the dial.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I am alright,” Keith mumbled through tense lips. He didn’t look very alright.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“May I see?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith looked at him slowly, considering. “It is only a scrape,” he answered, extending his hand toward Shiro, palm-up, curled inward and looking miserable. Shiro marveled at how much emotion Keith conveyed with his hands. “It is the cramp that startled me. It will pass.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Cramp?” Slowly, Shiro took his hand, taking it all in. The back of Keith’s hand had a soft, velvety feel, his palms furless, smooth and slightly humid, with raised pads that felt cool to the touch. Keith flexed his hand in Shiro’s grip and—</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro felt the toe beans.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, my hands, they will cramp sometimes. It is nothing.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro knew he might be toeing a line, but if he could help Keith then he certainly was willing to try. He ran his thumb around the pinkie pad and, when Keith didn’t pull away, Shiro closed his grip around the spot in an experimental squeeze.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith made a soft sound, unreadable, nigh unintelligible, but he didn’t protest. Shiro swallowed his nerves and looked Keith in the eyes before kneading his hand, feeling the pad shift and slip under the pressure.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith hummed and it was so near a moan that Shiro’s dick took an unfair interest in the sound.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Is this okay?” Shiro asked.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“S-so good,” Keith rumbled. “Shiro…”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“More?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith shuddered. “Please,” he sighed.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro’s whole world focused down to the palm of Keith’s hand; already, the slide of muscle and tendon and bone beneath skin would have Shiro caught up in that touch, but the pads of Keith’s grip were so satisfying to feel, he couldn’t help but focus on those places most. He brushed the skin lightly with delicate touches even while he massaged his thumbs deeper into the flesh, pulling little sounds of pleasure from Keith.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro made an effort to watch Keith’s reactions, not wanting to miss anything. Keith seemed to sway, his eyelids fluttering, and he kept curling and uncurling his other hand.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Let me have your right, next?” Shiro asked and Keith blinked his eyes open like it was great effort. “Must be more sore than your left, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith used his free hand to steady himself on Shiro’s shoulder as he huffed a laugh. “Fortunately, I am ambidextrous.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Really?” Shiro’s voice was more breathy than he intended, but so was Keith’s. He accepted Keith’s right hand, his left finding Shiro’s bicep and hanging on just above the seam of metal in his upper arm. The simplest touch from Keith whipped through Shiro’s body like an avalanche. He kneaded into Keith’s palm, delighting all over again at the slide of his beans, the almost-wet feel of his skin, and—</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith started purring. It rumbled up his throat and trembled in the air between them. It wasn’t a sound that Keith could consciously make, as Shiro had already learned; he didn’t even seem aware he was doing it. Shiro looked on, dumbstruck, holding on to Keith’s hand like the last thread of his sanity.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, Keith,” Shiro whispered when he found his breath. “Is that for me?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s eyes flashed to him, stretched wide with sudden mortification. Keith clamped his mouth shut, but the sound of purring lingered even as he tried to pull away.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“No, no, Keith! I- I love it, please,” Shiro said in a rush. He squeezed Keith’s palm again just to make his point, ready to let him go the very next moment, just— not yet, please not yet.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Squeezing Keith’s hand sent his eyes lolling all over again, his other grip tightening over Shiro’s upper arm. His posture brought their faces closer, so close as Keith opened his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith shifted his free hand to rest over Shiro’s heart. “Your heart is racing again… for me?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro’s laugh was delighted. “It always does.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s purr kicked up a decibel. “Mine also, Shiro,” he said, tipping his chin up, watching Shiro’s lips.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro went for Keith’s mouth, still holding Keith’s hand between both of his, caught between Shiro’s body and the insistent rattle in Keith’s chest. He felt how Keith’s hand shook the moment before their lips slid together. Shiro squeezed his hand as Keith whimpered against his lips.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Wow,” Shiro breathed, moving to taste Keith’s lips again. Keith pressed both hands to Shiro’s chest, nearly kneading Shiro’s pecs as he pulled Keith in by the waist. “Wow, Keith.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Wo-w yourself,” Keith drawled, the word funny-shaped in his mouth, bent around his accent. His eyes looked drunk and Shiro knew he was a goner. He giggled.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I am funny?” Keith asked.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro bent to kiss his nose, enchanted by how it made Keith’s ears flick around. “You are adorable. And sweet, and so goddamn sexy,” he said in a rush before he could think better of it. Maybe Shiro was a little drunk, too, as his hands gripped Keith’s tiny waist.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The grip made Keith’s hips jump, lurching forward. Shiro hissed a startled breath at the contact.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith hummed, bemused and eyes sparkling up at him. “Is that also for me, professor?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro barked a laugh. “Yes, brat,” he pulled him closer and had just enough courage to take a handful of Keith’s ass in retaliation.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Oh god,” Shiro choked out. “You <em>do</em> have a tail.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith only smiled.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">^^^</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro was sure he’d never made it across campus to his flat so quickly. But he’d also never had Keith as inspiration.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">They agreed to be discreet for the sake of keeping their students off their backs, although Shiro immediately regretted letting go of Keith’s hand. As soon as his door was closed and locked, Shiro whirled on Keith— and found himself backed up against the door.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Mm, Keith,” he panted between deep, heated kisses.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith moved to mouth along Shiro’s jaw and the column of his neck. His canines were a bit sharp, but the brush of Keith’s velvet ear against Shiro’s cheek captured almost all of his attention. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith groaned, pressing his smile against Shiro’s neck. “Your heart is so fast, Shiro.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Well, of course it is,” he sighed a laugh. “Isn’t yours?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yes,” Keith pulled back to grin and took Shiro’s metal hand by the wrist, laying it over his pulse at the neck. “Feel me.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Feel me.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s heart was beating a good clip, the thump of it heavy and strange against his prosthetic’s sensors; he could feel the pulse and the warmth of him, but not the velvet softness of the short fur he knew was there at Keith’s neck, growing longer as it trailed up towards his ears. He wanted to feel that too— felt greedy for all of it.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“You feel good,” Shiro praised, and delighted in feeling the thrum under his fingers quicken. “Want to feel more of you.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“All, Shiro,” Keith breathed against his lips. Keith was working open the toggles of his collar, and down from there until the top hung open to his waist, never releasing Shiro’s mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro wasted no time, reaching with flesh fingers to cup the other side of Keith’s jaw, holding Keith between both hands. He trailed his flesh hand down Keith’s neck, over fine collarbones, brushing over Keith’s nipple. The touch elicited a shudder and a sharp intake of breath as Keith busied himself with Shiro’s tongue and with pulling Shiro’s shirt untucked.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s physique was incredible, he knew, and touching was overwhelming. His abs were firm and smooth, and Shiro’s senses prickled with anticipation until he ventured down to find the second set of Keith’s nipples. Keith sighed into his mouth and moaned, low and sweet, when Shiro teased his flesh there. And down. And down.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Finding something that you like?” Keith teased back.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Too many to count.” Shiro tweaked over the lowest nipple. “Where do I begin?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“With a bed, I think.” Keith tugged at Shiro’s shirt pointedly, clearly disappointed by the garment’s continued existence.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro groaned. “Deal.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">At the foot of his bed, Shiro’s hands gripped Keith’s waist, petting the soft doeskin he could feel with his human fingers. Keith shrugged out of his top, letting it slip and pool on the floor, then stripped Shiro’s shirt off overhead. The heat of Keith’s chest burned through him as they came together, holding, touching, kissing. And… purring.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Seeing mostly with his hands, it took minutes for Shiro’s eyes to catch on delicate stripes in the low light, lines of the darker hue curling over Keith’s bare shoulders, around the sides of his ribs and down to his hip bones.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Beautiful,” Shiro breathed, fingers brushing along the length of the long stripes. “Keith, you’re… so beautiful.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith blushed deeply, almost shy with pleasure. His hands started to knead Shiro’s pecs again as though he really didn’t know he was doing it, nails a little sharp where his fingers flexed. Shiro’s heart tripped into his throat. He didn’t want him to stop.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“You, um, you wanted to see my tail?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">If Shiro’s cock throbbed at that, so did his heart. “Yes, Keith. Fuck yes.” </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith unfastened his trousers and slid them down, revealing sweet little panties in a blush pink that looked incredible against his pale purple fur. Shiro’s mouth went dry. He knew Keith would look incredible, but fuck, he wasn’t expecting that.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith turned, lifting one knee up on the edge of the mattress, and a tail print stood out plainly through the soft fabric cupping his ass.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck, baby,” Shiro groaned, palming Keith’s ass and stroking through the supple material. Keith rattled at his touch, wiggling his hips back.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Touch.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">And he did. Shiro stroked his thumbs up and around, feeling the tail and trailing around the compact, fluffy shape. Shiro palmed his ass, giving his cheeks a little shake, fingers playing along the hem of the material. “May I?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith grinned. “You are very cautious. It is sweet. But it is not necessary.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Oh is that right?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“You will not misstep with me,” he challenged.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">There were a hundred things Shiro was holding back from doing. He went for the most immediate urge and yanked the seat of Keith’s panties to the side, freeing the fluffy short tail that curved sweetly at the crack of his ass.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s sharp breath was heady and sweet, and stroking his tail banished tension from his shoulders as he sank into the bed. Keith trembled when Shiro stroked one thumb down between his ass cheeks. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro tried to trust himself and let his desires carry him, like Keith told him to do. He trusted Keith. The man smelled downy with a little musk, and Shiro lovingly buried his face in that tail and that ass. Smelling, kissing, licking.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Nnagh!” Keith keened as Shiro licked over his hole.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Perfect,” Shiro said to him and then set to work eating his ass. Keith’s guttural growl was the only answer he managed.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith tasted… sweet. And sweeter all the time. Sweeter and wetter. Shiro must have made a small sound. Keith hummed and looked at him in question.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Wet,” Shiro whispered, licking the taste of Keith from his lips.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith looked back at him earnestly. “Humans do not self-lubricate?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro wondered how much color drained from his face. “Uh, not all of them, no.” </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, but more importantly, are others so enthusiastic with their mouths?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">It made Shiro laugh. “With you? I would hope so.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith squawked in objection, squirming, but Shiro had the superior hold and dumped Keith down on the bed on his back, slotting himself between his knees. The sight of Keith’s cock stretching and straining the soft fabric was worthy of a subscription fee— and Shiro would know. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Holding Keith down on his back, Shiro’s mouth was drawn to Keith’s chest and his belly, toying with the small nub of each nipple. Keith admitted with a giggle that they weren’t <em>very</em> sensitive, but it seemed everywhere was sensitive enough to thrill under Shiro’s tongue. Keith wasn’t complaining. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Hm,” Shiro grinned, “but I think I know what is sensitive.” Keith’s eyes widened as Shiro sat up between Keith’s knees and reached for his calf.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Shiro,” Keith muttered, skeptical. But Shiro started rubbing small circles into the pads of Keith’s feet. The immediate arch of Keith’s spine gave him away.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Too much?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith panted as Shiro worked over his foot, toes curling, cock twitching. He gasped.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“It is ticklish when the touch is light,” Keith answered breathily. So Shiro put more force into his grip, metal and muscle kneading into the pad of flesh and all the nerves beneath it. Keith rewarded him with his purr, growing louder and louder. As Keith melted between his hands, Shiro bent and kissed along the tender arch of his foot, then each of his toes.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Oh,” Keith mumbled, gripping the sheets. He was such a sight, with his heavy sighs and twitching muscles. Shiro massaged over the ball of his foot while he pulled Keith’s smallest toe into his mouth and sucked.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Hnngh!” Keith keened. It was a delicious, lewd sound, encouraging Shiro to suck on his other toes, too. He wasn’t surprised to feel the nail shift as he manipulated each bean, like a claw sliding deeper into his mouth. Wow.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro worked the other foot with similar dedication, massaging and sucking, utterly absorbed. Keith squirmed on the bed, hips bucking especially whenever Shiro used his mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“You like that?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Is this a Terran mating thing?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro laughed. “Maybe just a me thing.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith giggled even as he purred and tried to rein in his writhing. “No one… has ever…”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Mm, glad to be the first.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Shiro,” Keith whined, “you cannot just say these things,” he complained. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro kissed his way up past Keith’s knee, mouthing over the shape of his cock through the delicate fabric of his panties. “Well, it’s true.” Shiro planted another kiss where the head of Keith’s cock spilled out of the waistband.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“If you are about to ask my permission again, you should reconsider,” Keith warned with an arched eyebrow. “I have wanted you for phoebs.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro’s heart stuttered in his chest, words rushing to his lips— where Keith held them back with a single, purposeful finger.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Later.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro kissed the digit just to be bratty, then pulled Keith’s panties down and swallowed his lovely cock without preamble.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“OH!” Keith gasped. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro enjoyed teasing, but here he did not take his time. He dove into Keith’s lap, cockhead just breaching the tight passage of his throat as he swallowed and sucked.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Sh-iro!”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">He was relentless, how he bobbed his head. He swallowed where Keith leaked onto his tongue, thirsting for more of the taste of him. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith was already close. And whatever burst of impatience this was, Shiro did want to draw out Keith’s pleasure. Coaxing him right to the edge with deliberate care, Shiro tried to pull off only to find Keith’s grip hard on the back of his head, pressing Shiro back down. Shiro choked even as he saw stars, split open on Keith’s cock as the other rolled his hips up with a shout. Within moments, Keith came forcibly in his throat.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro sat up coughing, eyes wet, and more turned on than he’d ever been in his life. Keith clearly saw only half of that in his expression. He pulled Shiro up into his arms, wiping at his eyes with soothing sounds.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, sorry, are you alright?” </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Hell yeah!” Shiro panted, kissing him hard. “So hot, baby.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith blinked, confused. “But you are crying?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“It’s reflex, don’t worry about it. I… I liked it,” Shiro flushed. “I like what you do to me, Keith.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s wicked grin returned. “Now where is this lubricant?” he asked. “I wish to make you scream next.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck,” Shiro groaned. It was an effort to move away from Keith, reaching for the bedside drawer. He returned quickly, handing Keith the bottle. Keith opened the cap and made a puzzled face at it.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I… don’t understand.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, tell me,” Shiro kissed his nose. “This is a safe space.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith squinted at the bottle, ignoring the remark. “What is the delivery mechanism?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Hm?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith blushed furiously. “It is… required inside, because you do not make lubrication? Is there an applicator? How does one—”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Oh!” Shiro grinned, catching on. He had to kiss Keith’s face first, so many times, before he could manage an answer. The man was so cute.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I’m sure your cock would make a fine applicator,” Shiro murmured between kisses, aware that Keith was hardening again already. Bless that Galra stamina. “But usually we start with fingers, to prepare the body a little? It, um. It feels good. I can do it,” Shiro offered, reaching to take the bottle back.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s eyes lit up, clutching the bottle to his chest. “You mean I may use my <em>hands?”</em></span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Yes,” Shiro laughed, “hell yes. You mean Galra don’t play that way?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith pursed his lips. “I believe it would be considered… a fetish.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro nipped at Keith’s lip, grinning. “Mm, even better.” To Shiro’s delight, Keith made a strangled little sound.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro settled on his knees, letting Keith nudge his thighs apart. Keith was direct, almost blunt about most things, but the way his hands roved over Shiro’s ass and hips and thighs felt worshipful and slow. Shiro couldn’t help but think Keith was this way with him because he paid attention to everything Shiro did. He already knew Shiro so well, just from listening, watching.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith’s rattle was back, steady and soothing as Keith touched him and tasted him. Shiro always loved this part, the slow build, awakening all the senses. Keith explored with one slick finger, circling his rim and sliding inside.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Mm, Keith,” he sighed. “That feels good.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“You are so tight,” Keith answered, breathy. “How—”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Just keep going, you’ll see.” Shiro shifted his hips back into Keith’s hand. “More.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“More fingers?” Keith sounded genuinely excited.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“More fingers.” Shiro’s laugh broke around a shaky breath. He wondered how sensitive Keith’s hands really were.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">With two fingers knuckle-deep, Keith whimpered as the finger pads of his palm grazed Shiro’s rim. Attentive as ever, Keith was clearly getting lost in that— twisting his fingers just to slide and grind his palm wherever he could reach. Three fingers in and Keith moaned before Shiro even could.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, mm yes,” Shiro praised.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“You stretch well,” Keith hummed, twisting his fingers inside. “You can nearly take my cock now.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro wanted that, yes— he wanted everything with this man. But the way Keith hesitated, sounding almost regretful, was hard to accept. There was time, surely, for everything Keith wanted, too.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“A little more wouldn’t hurt,” Shiro suggested.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith purred at that. He withdrew his fingers to coat them in more lube. It was a lot, far more than was necessary, but if Keith wanted to play and explore, Shiro would buy a case of the stuff for next time. God, he wanted a next time.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Taking four of Keith’s slender fingers was not a huge step, but his knuckles were. Keith levered him open more and more, desperate to somehow feel more, deeper. Shiro panted, sweating, spine arching as Keith worked at him with a singular dedication.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro bucked with the force of the sensation washing over him. He struggled to find his breath, lost in the aching stretch. When Keith’s knuckles popped inside, stuck on his thumb, Shiro cried out in shock.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Keith, Keith, that’s enough—” </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith curled his long fingers, petting his insides and dragging fingertips over his prostate with deadly aim. Shiro keened, spurting hotly and canting his hips back to meet Keith’s hand with even more force.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“There is that screaming,” Keith purred. Now that he found such a responsive spot he stroked it again, milking him.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god,” Shiro shivered. <em>“Keith!”</em></span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“You like this,” Keith answered, kissing the arch of Shiro’s spine. “You cry so prettily.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro only whimpered. Keith twisted his palm to feel his insides with all that sensitivity, pumping fingers deeper and hooking them to give Shiro another devastating jolt.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">He felt the thumb press in, folded flat to his palm. Shiro’s breath came in gasps. He wasn’t prepared for this. He couldn’t bear to stop.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“You feel so good, Shiro,” Keith murmured, petting him with his free hand. Shiro rocked his hips back to meet Keith’s hand. “Yes, that’s it. Just a little more, almost—”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro’s vision burst in colors as he shouted, body swallowing Keith’s fist to the wrist.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“AH—” Shiro gasped, and his lungs burned. He thought he could feel Keith in his throat.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“That’s a good boy,” Keith praised. He kissed over Shiro’s back, rolling his knuckles inside. “I will take good care of you,” he said while he opened his hand, delicately rearranging Shiro’s insides.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro thought he was past coming— somewhere he’d never been instead. Or desperately circling it, he wasn’t sure. Keith pressed his hand into him, lube squelching past his wrist, and purred as Shiro took him in.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Can feel all of you,” Keith panted over his spine, his own cock leaking at Shiro’s thigh, ignored. “So tight and warm.” Keith pumped his arm and twisted his hand just right to singe Shiro’s every nerve. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Climax hit hard, slamming through him with a scream of Keith’s name. His heart galloped and his hole clenched around Keith’s wrist and he knew Keith basked in all of it.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro might have hallucinated it, but he thought Keith gave his tail a little, happy shake.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">^^^</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“And that, class, is the gland that results in Galran self-lubrication during mating itself.” Shiro digitally pointed to the diagram of the Galran reproductive system. He thought he should be rather proud that his voice didn’t betray him at the statement. “This effect is heightened when contacted by the medial ridge in a typical Galra/Galra pairing.” </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">As it turned out, the ridge was also really good for stimulating human prostates. It was really a wonder Shiro could walk that morning, and he’d frankly tried not to sit.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Not that it wasn’t all worth it.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Questions?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Professor Shirogane?” There was a confident hand from an Altean girl in the front of the room.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, go ahead.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“You mentioned purring, which is a rare adaptation in a humanoid. Is there any theory on the origin of that trait? How does it aid in successful mating?”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” Shiro pursed his lips. “There are short-term and long-term strategies for reproductive success, no? Purring shows contentment, safety, belonging. It tells the Galra’s partner that all is well, strengthening the relationship.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro tried not to look, but he did in the end. His eyes flitted to the very back of the lecture hall where Keith leaned near the AV booth. Of course he was grinning.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, that makes sense,” the girl answered, pulling Shiro’s focus back to the front row. “Given that Galra so often mate for life.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro felt the room stand still. He read that too, of course, but there was a difference between <em>Galra in general</em> and <em>this Galra</em> who purred and purred as he tenderly fucked Shiro within an inch of his life.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">This Galra who woke up with him this morning, patted his ass and snorted over Shiro’s slight waddling. This Galra who wanted to be here, to encourage, and just to be by his side.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">This Galra who could likely hear his heartbeat right now from the back row.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">A student cleared his throat somewhere to Shiro’s right. His hand was raised. Still dazed, Shiro nodded in invitation.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Are the Galra cross-compatible with other humanoids for mating?” The lanky boy squawked as his friends and others around the room groaned. “No, I’m serious! Given all the differences, I just thought… jeez!”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro raised a suspicious eyebrow at the question, but he was in too good a mood not to answer. He thought of Keith’s mother, finding a human and loving him fiercely, changing the whole course of that man’s life. Wooing him across the universe. Carrying their child. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, perfect compatibility,” Shiro said simply. He didn’t even blush. “For all the diversity in the universe, it’s a wonder how much we are the same.” Shiro clicked off the screen, signaling the class was excused.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Gathering his things as slowly as possible, Shiro waited until the class had mostly cleared out before going to meet Keith at the top of the risers. Keith was actually lending a hand up there when he really didn’t need to, shutting everything down in the booth for Shiro to be able to take off sooner.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Very smooth, professor.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro chuckled. “Well, I had a little <em>inside</em> information.” </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith groaned. “Yes, Joyan never bothered with such <em>in-depth</em> research.” It was Shiro’s turn to groan. “But truly, you did very well. I enjoy watching you work.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro’s chest swelled a bit at that. He was also firmly imagining something else. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I like you making me work.” </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith made a small sound of surprise. Shiro felt his face heat, his heart race. He liked knowing how Keith would lap it all up.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“Besides,” Shiro glanced back to check that the room was indeed clear. It was. “You’re a bit biased, no? I’ve got to be your favorite professor.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Keith snorted. It wasn’t exactly the resounding affirmation Shiro <em>may</em> have been fishing for, but that just served him right. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“I dunno about that,” Keith teased him, sliding a finger down from his collar and hand settling over his heart. “But you’re certainly my best student.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Shiro had a retort ready, but it wasn’t any use when Keith shut him up with a kiss.</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on <a href="https://twitter.com/bioplast_hero"><b>twitter</b></a>! ❤️🖤 <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&amp;work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&amp;include_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=10209319&amp;work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&amp;exclude_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=17504241&amp;work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=halloween+party&amp;work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&amp;work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=T&amp;work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&amp;work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&amp;work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&amp;work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&amp;work_search%5Bquery%5D=&amp;work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&amp;commit=Sort+and+Filter&amp;user_id=bioplast_hero">Other sheith by this author</a></p><p>I love comments of any kind, including emoji dances and keysmashes— all welcome. Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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